Colours of Love
by Bendleshnitz
Summary: A recollection of Ron/Pansy drabbles. Each chapter is a different story. Further explanation at the beginning of chapter one. -Not Canon Compliant-
1. The Observer

**A/N:** I'll post here (in different chapters) different Ron/Pansy drabbles (499 words max) for a competition on livejournal. The drabbles are different stories. None has any connection to another. The competition is a LDWS, which stands for Last Drabble Writer Standing. Each week a prompt is given and people write a drabble inspired by it, then people vote (no one knows who wrote what) and each week two writers are out of the competition. I didn't do very well the first week and I have a feeling I'll be out this week (week 2), but I'll keep updating this until I'm out :)

The recollection of drabbles is called Colours fo Love because that's the name of the competition. Each week/prompt is related to one colour.

Here's the drabble for week 1

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**Title:** The Observer  
**Pairing: **Ron Weasley/Pansy Parkinson  
**Rating:** PG-13 (for slight sexual implications)  
**Prompt:** "He liked to observe emotions; they were like red lanterns strung along the dark unknown of another's personality, marking vulnerable points." - _Ayn Rand_  
**Beta:** **priestessaranel**  
**Word Count:** 397  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:** Another Saturday night, another whiskey in his hand. Same bar, same table. Ron watches Pansy.  
**A/N:** Originally written for Challenge One: Red on **ronpansy_ldws** . I barely made it, so I'll most probably be out next week.

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**The Observer**

Another Saturday night, another whiskey in his hand. Same bar, same table. Ron watches Pansy from a far, dark corner of the dimly lighted place.

She talks to a blonde bloke, sipping at her drink every time he says something.

He is boring.

* * *

The next week, the same table awaits him. Ron smiles to himself as Pansy pushes her long hair behind her ear for the hundredth time that night.

Her dark locks fall in uncharacteristic curls down her back, the product of the humidity outside.

She feels uncomfortable.

* * *

The following Saturday, he observes her again. The muscles in his shoulders tense as Pansy giggles and touches a man's arm.

She pretends not to catch him looking down her low-cut blouse.

She wants to fuck him.

* * *

The whiskey doesn't burn his throat anymore. It's a routine, just like observing her. Ron feels himself relax for the first time in a week when he sees Pansy's last conquest is nowhere in sight.

She's wearing her grey sweater and a short skirt.

There's something bothering her.

* * *

Another weekend finds him in the same place, but there are no signs of Pansy in the pub. Ron waits and waits, but the girl he's been observing for months hasn't shown up.

A sense of loss invades him.

He misses her.

* * *

The next Saturday, there is already someone at his table when he arrives at the pub. Pansy looks at him intently with two whiskeys on the table. Ron sits in front of her, his curiosity greater than the fear of her discovering him.

"You've been watching me, Weasley."

Straight to the point. Of course, she's wearing her red dress today. She is determined.

"I've been reading you," he says shortly, his blue eyes burning into her hazel ones.

"Is that so?" she asks, lifting her chin just so, a move almost imperceptible to anyone but him. "Would you tell me what you read?"

Ron leans across the table. The scant distance between their faces makes her painted lips all the more inviting.

"You're just as vulnerable as I am… as any of us. But you like to pretend that's not true."

Her cold laugh rings in his ears. The sound is supposed to be denigrating, but only confirms his theory.

"You think you know _everything_, Weasley."

"I don't. I just know _you_," he whispers before kissing her firmly on the lips.


	2. Blue Hearts

**Title:** Blue Hearts  
**Pairing: **Ron Weasley/Pansy Parkinson  
**Rating:** PG  
**Prompt:** "Artists can color the sky red because they know it's blue. Those of us who aren't artists must color things the way they really are or people might think we're stupid." - Jules Feiffier  
**Beta:** **priestessaranel**  
**Word Count:** 326  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:** Who says hearts are red?  
**A/N:** Originally written for Challenge Two: Blue on **ronpansy_ldws** . Again, barely made it, though it was a surprise to see I'm still in the competition. I seriously thought I was going out.

If you don't know/understand what this is, there's an explanation at the beginning of the first chapter.

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**Blue Hearts**

"What ya doin', love?"

"Painting."

"Oh, that's nice. May I join you?" Ron sat by her side and watched the crayon leaving its trace over the white paper. "That's beautiful, honey; but are you sure you want to choose _that_ colour?"

"Yes."

"Baby, hearts are _red_; not _blue_. Here's a red crayon that-"

"Ron, leave Molly alone," Pansy warned with a small smile from the kitchen.

Her big eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched her fiance looking worriedly at the blue heart his niece was colouring.

"I'm just saying. Hearts are red."

"Says who?" she challenged, quirking a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Says...everybody! C'mon, Pansy. Don't do this to me. Do you know how Percy will get when he sees his daughter doing things...against the rules?" His blue eyes opened widely at the prospect of having his older brother lecturing him and poor Molly on the matter.

"Well, that's because your brother has a stick up his-" Pansy paused, noticing the eager three year old listening intently to every word she was saying. "Nose. A stick up his nose," she finished in a very serious tone.

Molly giggled, covering her mouth with her hand and looking at her uncle's reaction.

"Nose? Really? You couldn't come up with something better?" Ron teased her, suppressing a smile.

"Oh, shut up," she said rolling her eyes and going back to the kitchen.

She hadn't even reached the stove where their lunch was being cooked when she felt Ron's arms around her waist. Pressing his chest against her back, he kissed her neck in a slow, loving way.

"My heart is _blue_, because I love _you_," he whispered against her pale cheek.

"Twee, Weasley, _very_ twee," she said patting his cheek and leaning against him.

"Only twee for you," he answered in a singing tone.

His laughter vibrating against her skin sent shivers down her spine. "Good. Now go check on Molly. I'm afraid she'll paint the sky yellow next."

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**A/N:** I made it to the next round, so there will be at least one more drabble. :)


	3. Quivering Balance

**Title:** Quivering Balance  
**Pairing: **Ron/Pansy  
**Rating:** PG  
**Prompt:** "Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it." Mark Twain  
**Word Count:** 383  
**Beta:** **scarletladyy** , **priestessaranel** and **x_nothing_here** (you three are a wonderful combination and you saved my arse at the last minute. Thank you!)  
**Warnings:** Mentions of infidelity.  
**Summary:** He'd much rather her hexing his arse off than seeing her look so...disappointed.  
**A/N:** Originally written for Challenge Three: Violet on **ronpansy_ldws** . This was the ticket on my way out of the competition. I lasted one more week than expected so it's not too bad for a first time in a LDWS and my crappy writing. I have a pretty banner :)

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**Quivering Balance**

It was an intense silence that took over the coldness of the surrounding atmosphere. Her eyes, enlightened with rage and heartbreak, wouldn't leave his face. His own pleading eyes emanated the opposite energy, balancing her frantic gaze with his numb expression and entangling their feelings into the perfect mix of confusion.

Pansy let out a sigh and sat in the armchair directly behind her. Her once elegant and straight posture was nowhere in sight. It was like the invisible string that held her head up high was cut by his confession.

Hesitantly, Ron walked to her side, as slowly as he could. His hands stayed mid air, offering him a small but comforting amount of protection against a hex he knew he deserved. Kneeling down in front of her, he once again looked into the depths of her sad eyes.

"I love you, Pansy," he whispered cautiously. "I'm so, so sorry. I'm a dick for what I've done. For what I did to you...to _us_."

Her eyes closed briefly, letting a single tear caress the porcelain skin of her cheek.

"Pansy," he breathed. Ron had never seen the strong, confident Pansy Parkinson so defeated before. He'd much rather her hexing his arse off than seeing her look so...disappointed.

"Why, Ron?" Her lower lip quivered as she muttered her first two words since he'd entered the room.

"I was...drunk. Drunk and stupid. We'd fought and- and I- I'm an idiot, Pansy. I know I'm a bloody idiot; but I'm here, telling you the truth...and begging you - and whatever force out there - that you give me another chance and take me back." He gently took hold of her hands and a wave of relief soothed the tension in his shoulders when she didn't reject his touch. "Please, Pansy. I don't want to lose what we had. I don't want to lose _you_ over some stupid drunken mistake. I love you too much. I do. I love you so-"

Tears now ran freely down Pansy's face, allowing her to collapse into his arms as he caressed her hair and continued asking for forgiveness against her ear.

"Would you forgive me, Pansy?" he pleaded softly against her neck, waiting for her answer. An answer that was as much a mystery to him as to her.

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**A/N:** So...I didn't amke it to the next round...meaning, no more drabbles for this competition. However, I'm not giving up on this couple. I've written them a couple of times before and they are great fun, so stay tunned for more stories of them (though not as new chapters here) Don't forget to review!


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